


Same Kind of Bad

by foxcatcher



Series: Same Kind of Bad [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Community: wrestlingkink, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Kink Meme, M/M, Misuse of the Regal Stretch, Past Relationship(s), Prompt Fill, Regal is angry and Pete is trying to hide some stuff, Rough Sex, UK Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 04:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14036007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxcatcher/pseuds/foxcatcher
Summary: An alternate take on Regal's confrontation with Pete after the attack on Sam Gradwell, based on this prompt from the kinkmeme:  “During the UK Tournament Pete was basically the biggest brat Regal has seen since Ambrose left FCW. Thankfully Regal knows a thing or two about how to handle brats.”He found Dunne alone by the locker rooms. The man looked ready to leave, already in his civvies – tan coat and shirt buttoned all the way up and that stupid smirk still on his face, like he’d won. How dare he. Something in Regal boiled over at the sight, at the thought of Dunne escaping before he got what he deserved. Before he knew what he was doing, he had Dunne by his shoulders, pushing him through the nearest door and locking it behind them.





	Same Kind of Bad

**Author's Note:**

> There is not enough Dunne and Regal in the world, so I decided to combine something I was already working on with this lovely kinkmeme prompt, and out came this... What have I become?
> 
> Title from "Bad As Me" by Tom Waits.

_“Someone will fulfil their destiny, someone will become WWE-“_

_Sam Gradwell on the ground. Pete Dunne held back by Bate and Seven, hands held up in mock defence. The stunned silence of the others and the roar of the crowd._

-

How dare he. How _bloody dare he._

William Regal was prowling through backstage, the earlier events playing over and over in his head like a broken film reel – Gradwell struck down, Dunne standing over him. Gradwell down, Dunne over him. Gradwell. Dunne. Gradwell. Dunne. The atmosphere was still buzzing with what had happened – every room he entered was packed to the gills with people, whispering between themselves, but the crowds seemed to part in front of him, like they knew he was out for blood. He didn’t pay them any mind. All he knew was that Pete Dunne was going to pay for this, one way or another. The reel rewound, returning to the image of the man after the second attack, his hands held up in mock apology, like that was all it took. _How dare he._ Regal threw open another door, gritting his teeth as he made his way deeper into the bowels of the building.

He found Dunne alone by the locker rooms. The man looked ready to leave, already in his civvies – tan coat and shirt buttoned all the way up and that stupid smirk still on his face, like he’d won. _How dare he._ Something in Regal boiled over at the sight, at the thought of Dunne escaping before he got what he deserved. Before he knew what he was doing, he had Dunne by his shoulders, pushing him through the nearest door and locking it behind them.

“Do you mind telling me what the _hell_ that was?”

Pete actually had the decency to look sheepish for a second as he stumbled into the empty locker room, but quickly caught himself, fixing his usual smug half-grin and lifting his chin to meet Regal’s glare straight on.

“Is there something wrong with you? I’ve spent the last bloody six months of my life sorting this out, and you want to mess it up, just like that?” Regal hissed through his teeth. He stalked towards the younger man, his shoes creaking steadily against the linoleum, and watched as Pete took halting steps backwards until his back hit the wall. The height difference between them was even more pronounced than usual as William crowded in on him, close enough to smell that Pete had showered right before he found him, his skin warm and scrubbed, hair still damp at the end.

Dunne still hadn’t said a word. The half-grin had faltered a bit, but the silence was only making things worse, adding fuel to an already raging fire. The little brat wasn’t even going to justify himself after he’d made a mockery of what Regal had worked so hard to achieve.

_How dare he._

“Well?”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you, old man,” Dunne finally spat out, probably less venomous than he intended. He drew himself up, squaring his shoulders like he was about to push past and make for the door, but before he could move, Regal pushed him back, grabbing him by the chin.

“Don’t even think about it, _lad_ ,” he seethed, his grip steely. Pete drew a sharp breath through his nose as he was forced to look the taller man in the eye, but to Regal’s surprise, he didn’t move. Just stared up at him with a guarded expression, shallow breaths puffing out over Regal’s knuckles, his hands clenched white by his sides. Every part of his previous self-satisfied posturing was gone. He looked… lost.

William touched his thumb to the corner of his mouth, pulling his lip up to mimic his trademark snarl and revealed a glimpse of sharp teeth. Everything about the boy seemed to be sharp – sharp teeth, sharp features, sharp words – every bit of him mean and sneering and surly. It reminded Regal of another sharp boy, from a long time ago. A vicious street mutt of a man, and like Pete, he’d turned up with a chip on his shoulder, arrogant and beautiful and so very young. And William had welcomed it. Praised it. Relished it, even as they clashed, time and time again. The difference was that Dean had been smart enough, or mad enough, to go after Regal himself. Not after his work, like a petulant child kicking over a sand castle.

Clearly, Pete was in need of some direction. And as Regal had learned, there was only one way to deal with brats like this.

“Do you think you’re the first to come here and act like you’re owed something?” he asked nonchalantly, hooking his thumb onto Pete’s teeth and prying his jaw open. The anger over the attack was still there, heat smouldering away in the pit of his stomach, but something had changed. Warped. Pete seemed frozen, even as Regal pushed the soft pad of his thumb against his canine, and Regal could see it in his eyes; the slow realisation that he no longer had the upper hand.

Taking advantage of this uncharacteristic hesitance, he easily turned him around, shoving him against the wall with a hand between his shoulder blades. Pete hit it chest first, the impact knocking the wind out of him, and it gave Regal the seconds he needed to quickly reach around him and undo his belt, pushing his trousers and underwear down his thick thigs. Regal would be lying if he said he hadn’t kept an eye on the boy before – not a man, no, despite his powerful build, William saw through that straight away. Too brash, too entitled. He’d seen great potential in the boy, with his talent and his mean streak, and had he targeted anybody else he would have applauded it. But he had to make the mistake of getting in Regal’s way. What a pity.

Well, maybe not.

While he would have loved to see Pete no his knees, he didn’t yet trust him not to bite, and felt a pang of something like affection at the thought. No matter, there would be time.

**“Get the fuck off of me, you-“**

As soon as he’d caught his breath, Pete was fighting back, trashing and snarling like a trapped animal. To no avail - before he could get purchase on the wall, Regal had trapped both his wrists in one large hand and clamped the other over his mouth. Calm as ever, he drew Dunne’s head back until his back was pulled taut and the curses were dissolving into pained whimpers against his palm.

“Shush,” he said quietly, mouth moving against Pete’s ear. “Don’t do anything stupid, Pete. You know just as well as I do that I’m not the only one you upset with your little stunt.”

The boy was strung like a bow beneath him, his head nearly on his shoulder. Unable to move without hurting himself, he settled for staring daggers at Regal, although it was marred somewhat by the tears forming at the corner of his eyes and the uneven breaths. Regal felt a surge of primal want at the sight – the predator faced with his defenceless prey - and ground against Pete’s firm backside, enjoying the way the boy’s eyes widened as he felt the other man’s erection press into him.

“That’s better.” Carefully, he released the hand he had clamped over his mouth. Pete was a slippery little bastard – just because he’d stopped struggling didn’t mean he wouldn’t take any opportunity he could get. “Now, be a good boy and open your mouth.”

He brushed his fingertips against Pete’s chapped lips, pushing a little to show that he meant business. Pete didn’t budge, jaw tightly clenched, but a firm yank on his trapped wrists fixed that – he jerked, opening his mouth with a cry, and Regal wasted no time shoving two fingers in, pressing down on his tongue.

Just like he’d expected, Pete bit down on them immediately.

Regal felt almost fond as the boy sank his crooked teeth into his fingers, which seemed ridiculous in the context of everything. But it was one of the things he’d always admired about Pete: his willingness to play dirty to get what he wanted. A useful trait to have, and one that reminded him of himself in his younger days. Even Dean, although he’d always been more focused on the fight itself, gleefully tearing and biting at anything that would fight back – he’d more or less thrown himself at Regal back in the day, in his never-ending search for the next thing that might be able to break him for good. Regal had come close, maybe closer than anyone had before, and then he’d left. He could still see him, on his knees, begging so prettily for whatever William could give him, _please, please_.

But he wasn’t here to reminisce all misty-eyed about what had been. Grinning to himself, he tightened his hold on Pete’s wrists and _wrenched_ , feeling the bones grind against each other. Pete let go of the fingers with a shaky groan, a string of spit dripping down to his chin, and Regal gave the wrists another squeeze for good measure before he released them. Without any warning, he slung his free arm around Pete’s neck, keeping his back strained as he pushed the two spit-slicked fingers past his tight rim.

“Nnngh-!”

Pete ground out a rough noise between his teeth, his hands flying to his neck to paw at Regal’s arm as the older man scissored his fingers, determined to pleasure. Leaning in, William buried his nose in the boy’s unruly hair, smelling the soap and sweat and fear coming off him in waves, and was there maybe something else there – something sweet and dark tinting it. He didn’t want to hurt him – or, at least not too much, just enough to keep him on his toes – even though he got the distinct feeling that Pete didn’t mind a bit of pain. Pain would do nothing here. No, he wanted to make the boy squirm, make him gasp and moan until he unravelled and revealed what was inside. He wanted to take him apart.

“That’s it,” he murmured, angling his fingers just so and pressing hard against his prostate. The reaction was immediate – Pete jerked like he’d been given an electric shock, letting out a surprised, open-mouthed sound. Regal rubbed against the spot again, and again, and again, until the boy was clinging to his arm like it was the only thing keeping him afloat, knees close to buckling. Two fingers became three and the sounds became desperate, keening. There was sweat beading at his temples, his thighs shaking against Regal’s as he rocked back.

-

He hadn’t planned on fucking him. This was supposed to be a warning, a lesson teaching the little brat who was in charge around here. But listening to the choked-off moans Pete made with every rough twist of his fingers, feeling him clench around them… He was only human.

Regal pulled out the fingers none too gently, releasing his hold on the shorter man. Pete slumped against the wall. His eyes were closed and he was panting quietly, forehead resting against the cool tiles, like he thought it was all over. He only had a second to gather himself before there was a hand on the back of his neck, holding him in place while Regal undid his belt one-handed, spitting in his hand with a graceless sound.

“Wait, what-“

Pete tried to look around, wide-eyed, but the grip didn’t yield.

“Aaah-“

Regal pushed in in one intent slide and, not bothering to let Pete adjust to it, began thrusting immediately, leaving the boy gasping and scrabbling against the wall, making desperate sounds in his throat. Pete reached blindly for the older man, but Regal had him pinned exactly where he wanted him, one hand on his hip and one on his shoulder, pulling him back onto his cock. He fucked him hard and fast, knowing exactly how to make the boy – _his_ boy – come apart. And what a rush it was, feeling the strong body shake beneath him – he fit around him like he was made for him, tight and perfect, every sound wrung out of him. William pulled him flush to his chest, allowing his lips to brush against the fever-hot skin of Pete’s neck, not quite kissing. Pete had to be boiling. He was still wearing his coat and Regal could feel the heat of his skin even through his shirt. Slowing his thrusts, he stroked a hand over his chest, pressing a fingernail against the hard bud of his nipple. Pete yelped at the touch, clenching around the other man. Supressing a groan, Regal reached for the boy’s collar and popped a few buttons to reveal his sweat-slick chest, then letting his hand slide down to his hip, towards his crotch, and to his delight, Pete was hard.

“Why, Pete, I’d almost say you were enjoying this,” he purred into his ear, pointedly _not_ touching his erection. “Was this what you wanted when you attacked poor Sam?”

“N-no,“ Pete was barely able to form words as Regal picked up his pace again.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Regal continued, undeterred. “You need this. You might act all big and tough, but you don’t fool me. I knew from the moment I saw you that all you needed was someone who knew how to keep you in place. Someone to _discipline_ you.”

“F-ffu-hh-“

“My dear boy, you only had to ask.” To punctuate it, he dug his fingernails into the meat of Pete’s hips, hard enough that he knew it was going to leave marks. Pete let out a ragged sound, grinding back onto Regal’s dick. The boy was moaning openly now, despite – or more likely, because of – the pain. The pace was almost punishing, but Pete arched into it, arms braced against the wall. He was close, so close, Regal could tell, his breath hitching with every hard thrust, and so was he. He tightened his hold on Pete’s hips, carving a new line of marks into them.

A few hard thrusts, and he was coming deep inside Pete’s tight heat.

Once he’d come down, he pulled out and tucked himself away. Pete winced at the loss but remained still, silent apart from his uneven, whimpering breaths. Regal ran a hand down the boy’s side, feeling him twitch under his palm – he was taut, like a wire ready to snap. Pleased, he grabbed his shoulder and turned him around, taking a step back so he could admire his handiwork.

It was a far cry from Pete’s usual cocky façade. Leaning heavily against the tiled wall, his thighs were trembling with the effort of keeping still and how close he was, trousers caught around his knees, angry red marks already appearing on his hips. His shirt was crumpled and half-open to reveal his flushed chest, and his cock was jutting out under the hem of it, dark and leaking against the white fabric. His eyes were cast down, fixed on the floor.

He was beautiful.

Like he had before, Regal grabbed his jaw and forced him to meet his eyes. They were glazed, damp at the corners, but there was still a spark of something undeniably _Pete_ in them, in the way he met his gaze head-on, teeth clenched as he tried not too move his hips. Regal couldn’t help but smile. His sharp boy, defiant to the last.

“Clean yourself up, Dunne,” he said matter-of-factly, patting him on the cheek. Then he turned on his heel, leaving Pete alone in the locker room, hard and thoroughly humiliated.

This wasn’t over.


End file.
